


A Letter from Alan

by TeamFranky



Category: Wentworth (TV)
Genre: F/F, franky doyle - Freeform, frerica - Freeform, wentworth prison - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2018-02-13 19:01:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2161614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamFranky/pseuds/TeamFranky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-Wentworth, Franky and Erica are together and live in an apartment. Franky gets a letter from her dad, and Erica finds it torn up in the trash. Franky needs a family. (Just in-case you think it's a typo: "Erie" is Franky's little shortened nick-name for Erica :) ).</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Letter from Alan

Erica’s pulse leaked through her ears and the moist palms of her hands, as she pieced enough of the torn-up page together to realise what it was. The hand-written letter had caught Erica’s eye in the waste-paper bin of the apartment she shared with Franky.  
Erica felt a huge weight of guilt for invading Franky’s privacy like this, but she’d been afraid this letter was something she was trying to hide; a love-letter from an old flame, perhaps.  
Erica had trouble controlling her jealously with Franky. Secretly, her insides burned whenever she saw Franky with Kim on the CCTV back at Wentworth. Erica knew that Franky was young, attractive, passionate; knew that she’d been with a lot of girls. Erica was scared to lose her.  
The letter was from Alan Doyle: Franky’s infamous father.  
Erica already hung her head slightly lower from the unfairness of their relationship: She’d been the governor, Franky had been the prisoner. Erica had read her files, watched her like a lab rat, been able to read her letters in the past, listen to her phone calls, everything. In light of all that, fishing this letter out of the bin seemed like a betrayal of what small opportunity Erica had left to prove her trustworthiness, and her respect of Franky’s privacy.  
But the only thing worse than admitting to Franky that she’d seen the letter would be lying to her about it. Franky’s life had been full of dishonest, self-seeking people in the past; Erica couldn’t be one of them. Erica felt a deep need to distance herself as much as possible from those types of people, and that meant being completely transparent.  
*  
There was a slight pang of warm guilt in Erica’s chest, like the emptying of a half-drunken cup of coffee into the kitchen sink, as she heard the latch of their apartment door click as Franky came home from work later that night.  
“Erie, you won’t believe the fuckin’ day I’ve had,” Franky called out from the hallway, dropping her briefcase to the floor. “Erica?” Franky called out as she heard no reply. She walked through the apartment looking for her, eventually seeing her through the open door of their shared home-office. “What’s up, Erie?” Franky asked, reading Erica’s features as easily as ever.  
Erica merely gestured to the pieces of Alan’s letter on the desk in response.  
“I’m sorry Franky… I saw it in the bin and didn’t realise what it was…” Erica trailed off guiltily, her eyes focused on Franky’s face, worried about her reaction.  
Franky looked at the letter for a lingering moment, took a deep breath in and twitched her nose slightly the way she always did when something bothered her, and exhaled. She looked back up at Erica, shrugged, and said “It doesn’t matter.” She then picked up the paper fragments and held them up as she added “He doesn’t matter.” She replaced the torn up pieces in the bin, and turned back to Erica. “What matters is you…” she trailed off as she held her face less than an inch from Erica’s, before sweeping a small piece of blonde hair out of her blue eyes, and kissing her passionately; but Erica still felt uneasy about the situation.  
*  
In bed later that night, both Franky and Erica were still awake. Erica could tell Franky was only pretending to be asleep, because when Franky slept her breaths were always very slow, far slower than they were now. Erica felt sure the letter from her father was keeping Franky up, playing on her mind.  
Erica reached over and stroked Franky’s back under the black singlet she slept in. “Franky?” she asked softly.  
“Mmm,” Franky replied sleepily. Erica decided not to press the subject, thinking it wise to give Franky some space. Franky was not somebody who could be pushed into doing things she didn’t want to do; Erica knew that for sure.  
It was 2:41am, according to the luminescent blue numbers on the bed-side alarm clock, when Erica woke up, and realised Franky wasn’t beside her. Erica slowly got out of bed, and stood in the open doorway of their bedroom. She stopped where she stood, as she could see Franky on the couch.  
Franky was biting her knuckle, and had something in her lap… it was one of Erica’s family photo-albums. Franky just sat there with one hand on its cover, which had a photograph of Erica’s family: Erica on her father’s shoulders, and Erica’s younger brother on the shoulders of their mother.  
After a while, Erica stepped out from the shadows of the doorway, pretending she’d just woken up and hadn’t been watching Franky.  
“What are you doing up?” she asked, through a feigned yawn.  
“Oh… nothing…” Franky said distractedly. Erica went to the kitchen and ran herself and Franky a small glass of water each. She emerged from the kitchen, and placed the glasses slowly on the coffee table, sitting beside Franky on the couch.  
“What are you doing with that?” Erica asked gently.  
“Just looking…” Franky replied, her voice cracking ever so slightly, “I don’t have any of my own, so…”  
Erica’s heart dropped and deflated, as she realised Franky didn’t simply mean she didn’t have any of her family photos in her possession- but also that she didn’t have a family.  
“That’s not true.” Erica said after a while, and Franky met Erica’s eyes. “Your dad wants to be in your life again, Franky.”  
Franky was silent.  
Erica had plenty to say to Franky. All she wanted was for the love of her life to be happy. She wanted to protect Franky, who’d been hurt so much and failed by so many. She wanted Franky to let her dad in, Erica felt convinced that her dad was a good man. He had tried so persistently to be in his daughters life again. Hadn’t given up even after she’d told him she would never forgive him, after she told him he was the scum of the earth. Still he wrote. Still he tried. Erica wished Franky wouldn’t blame him for the horrible things her mother had done to her. The fact was that yes, if he’d have stayed Franky probably wouldn’t have been hurt by her mother. But Alan wasn’t to know that. Alan hadn’t known what had happened behind those closed doors he’d walked out of until 15 years later, when he’d come to visit Franky in prison. Erica knew that after all this, Franky needed family. She needed her dad.  
Erica wanted to tell Franky all this, wanted to convince her. But she didn’t say another word. Because she knew Franky was aware of all these things already. She knew that if Franky was ever going to let her dad back into her life, it would take time- time to forgive him.  
Erica couldn’t push her to do something she wasn’t ready for. She knew Franky would only let her in if she continued to be someone who didn’t insist she knew what was best for Franky, someone who didn’t interfere with Franky’s decisions. She had to be there for Franky, love, protect and support her; but nothing more.  
Franky saw the concern in Erica’s eyes. This was what sometimes annoyed her, but at the end of the day was what she loved most about Erica. It was her undying ability to give everyone a fair chance, no matter their reputation or front.  
Erica reached out and rubbed Franky’s knee. Franky then took Erica’s hand in hers and placed a pressing kiss on top of it.  
Erica pulled Franky into her chest, physically embracing her, wrapping her up. Franky kept Erica’s hand in hers, and kissed it twice more, before slowly and sincerely, almost whispering, “I love you so much, Erie.”  
“I love you too, Franks.”


End file.
